The Carraway: Return to West Egg
by Sephiria Arks
Summary: Only a few years since Nick left New York, but putting the past behind is harder than it seems. Especially when Daisy comes to persuade Nick to return to New York. But where Daisy failed, another chance comes and it snatches Nick back to West Egg. Now that he's returned, just how much danger, trouble, romance and more can he get into? [Some movie characters involved].
1. Chapter 1

The events of what happened in New York still lingered deep within my mind, nearly as fresh as a daisy that had bloomed in early spring. My hands were shoved into my coat pockets to keep them warm, as a light snowfall, which only started minutes ago, began to end. The street that I was walking on was packed with cars, as family members were leaving for the upcoming holiday season; it gave off the sounds of the bustling New York streets.

Looking across the street, I saw a group of girls clinging to a bung of men like monkeys. They were laughing and grinning at the fullest. But looking at one particular girl, I saw that she almost reminded me of Jordan Baker. Her hair was the same color and style, but her skin was pale as the moon unlike Jordan's beautiful golden skin that shines like a new gold locket that was freshly polished. Shaking my head, I turned my head away from the group and walked away in silence.

My key was inserted into my apartment doorknob, and I gave it a nice good turn. There was a small click of it unlocking, and I pushed the door open. Stepping into the living room, I peeled off my coat and threw my hat onto the couch. A small sound had come from my couch, and I suck in a deep breath of air. Carefully walking over, a blond hair woman popped up and gave me the gayest grin that she could hold on her face.

"Did you miss me, Nickie?" 

"Daisy! What brings you into Minnesota? And how did you get into my apartment?"

"Oh, the apartment thing doesn't matter at the moment. The reason why I came here is because of you. I'm dragging your little fluffy dog tail back to New York."

I blinked at her in shock, and I took a step or two away from her. She carefully rose off of the couch and approached me with caution. In her eyes, I could see that she was worried of me.

"Nick, darling, what's wrong? You just became pale as someone who would be sick on a hot summer day."

Her words reminded me of the day when Tom, Jordan and I had pulled into George Wilson auto-shop for some gasoline. He had been sick that day, and that was also the day when everything had started to turn rotten.

"I'm not going back to New York, Daisy, not one bit. I can't handle New York, not after what happened. I can't it be there, Daisy, not even if you dragged my dead body there."

"Oh, Nickie."

She wrapped her thin pale arms around me, and the two of us stood in silence. I counted the seconds that passed by while we were in silence; I fidgeted a small bit in her arms. Daisy quickly took notice and pulled away from me with a small apologetic yet angelic look on her face.

"So did anyone else come with you? I wouldn't be surprised if Tom was here, but if it was Jordan, that would be a real surprise to me. So is she here?"

"Oh, I wish she did come Nick, I truly do. After you left, Tom and I, we came back two months later, and Jordan came to me and we had a long talk. We did a lot of talking Nick, and we settled a lot of things. It was only five weeks later that she mentioned you, Nick."

"She still talks about me?"

"Yes, and Nickie, she's a mess. She told me about how the two of you were falling in love with each other and about your kiss with her. Then she cried her heart out and so forth. It took me an hour to calm her down, and then she just fell asleep on the couch looking like a raccoon. It continued on for a few days, then Tom finally yelled at her to stop and physically hurt her. . . She ran out of the room we were in and I followed after her. She was just about to take her car but I told her I'll drive so she wouldn't get into an accident. After I dropped her home, I got a taxi and went back to my house."

I turned away from Daisy, and walked towards my apartment windows on the opposite side of the room. New snow was falling to the ground, creating a thin winter blanket upon the streets that were just shoveled from the previous snow and ice. My hand ran through my brown hair, and I could see Daisy staring at me in the reflection. Taking in a deep breath, I decided to ask her a couple more questions.

"And how is she doing now?" 

"She's doing okay at the moment Nick, but I know that she wants you Nick, I've seen it in her eyes. And by the way you're asking about her, you want her back in your arms again. Do you Nick?"

"Yes, I really do want her back Daisy, but she told me that she was engaged to another man. How can I have her back if she is with someone else?"

"She was engaged, Nickie, but she broke it off a week or two ago. Now she's a free woman once more."

My heart jumped inside of me, and I could have sworn that I wanted to hug Daisy right at that moment from the news she gave me. But instead, I kept myself composed around her. Deep down inside me, I hated her for putting Gatsby through all of that pain and allowing him to take the blame that he ran over Myrtle, which led George Wilson to killing him.

"Well then, Daisy, that is good for her. That is really good then. Guess that man didn't meet up with her standards that she keeps to herself on what type of man she wanted."

"Nickie. . . the man left her because she. . . Oh, you make it hard to express things in the simplest way possible!"

I quickly turned to her and the look on my face must have scared her.

"I make things hard? All of you on East Egg made things hard for everyone on West Egg! No one over there in West Egg likes all of you East Egg socialites! All you ever had to do was sit back and watch everyone move his or her little fingers for you, while everyone else does the work! Even the people in the Valley of Ashes can't stand you rich people at all. They look at you people in East Egg with envy and anger, Daisy, and all you can care about is how your life goes!"

"You think all that I care about is my life, Nick? You're being judgmental here and ridiculous! In fact you're not acting fair! I care about everything that there is in this world! So stop putting the blame on me!"

"Then why did you let Gatsby take the blame that he was the one driving the car that killed Myrtle Wilson and not you? If you had, then Gatsby would still be alive and George Wilson wouldn't have come and shot him, then George Wilson wouldn't have killed himself! To let you know, George was also looking for the man that was taking his wife away from him and. . ."

I couldn't speak another word because I felt the tears starting to go down my face, and I grabbed a handful of tissues. My heart was still aching from the death of Gatsby, and I wasn't fully ready to move on from it, nor was I ready to talk about it. Nor was I ready to talk about it to Mrs. Buchanan.

Turning my head to her, I gave her the coldest stare that I could ever give that Gatsby would ever give to one of his friends that I saw. She took a couple of steps back from me, and I let out a heavy deep breath.

"Just why are you really here, Mrs. Buchanan?"


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes were filled with hurt and the uttermost disbelief towards me, and I could see that tears were ready to stream down from her eyes, and make her perfectly applied makeup transform her into a raccoon. And all that I did at that moment was stand there and stare at her, nothing else.

"Nick, please believe me when I came to get you and bring you back to New York. Come back and set things right. Come and make Jordan happy again, Nick. Please, oh, please do come back. Do it for me, please?"

"I think you should leave."

She slowly approached me with caution, and her hand barely reached out towards me. But in a quick response, I quickly took a couple steps away from her and shoved my hands into my pocket.

"Please, just leave already. I've had enough already for today, and I want to get some sleep before I go to work tomorrow. I don't have a guest room here, and I know you wouldn't want to sleep on the couch, so go to a hotel or something and just let me have some peace."

I could hear her let out a small sigh, and she walked towards the apartment door. Glancing up at her, she turned her head towards me and gave me pleading eyes. I only looked away from her, and the click of the door closing filled the air for a mere second only to be replaced by silence.

I vaguely at anything for dinner that night, and when I lay there on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, as the memories of New York began to flood my mind. I tried to shove the memories into the back of my mind, but no matter what or how hard that I tried to keep it in the back of my mind they kept coming back for me to remember. And that night, it was one of my most restless nights of sleep.

The winter days grew long and cold, and it's been nearly about two weeks since Daisy had came by to try and get me to join her back to New York. I kept myself busy with my work here in the West, helping out with bonds people and assisting in the family store. But the visit of Daisy still haunted my mind at all times.

New boxes had come in the day that I was working at my family store, and I was staying in the back end where no one would see me. My hands were full with boxes of nails and screws, when my father tapped me on the shoulder which startles me out of my thoughts, and the sounds of nails and screws filled the room. Just as I bent down to pick them all up, my father was already there picking up the nails and screws that were scattered on the floor.

"There's a woman asking for you, Nick, she's waiting at the counter. Said that she knew you when you went to New York. Now go on out there and see what she wants, I'll clean up this mess back here. Now get moving."

A small sigh escaped from between my lips, and I ran my hand through my hair as I walked out to the front of the store. Not too far ahead, I saw a young woman with a gray faux fur coat with white gloves standing at the counter. Behind her, I could see that the people were gossiping and a reporter taking took a picture of her. Her brown eyes darted up at me, and she gave me the smallest smile that would come to her face to match her eyes. And I knew who she was exactly.

Jordan Baker, of New York City. All of the news and articles were talking about her constantly, ever since she ended her engagement with a man back in New York City. They even talked about her golf practices and tournaments in the south, and how she won so many yet also lost about a small quarter of the games. And not once was there a single article about her cheating or lying to win at all in the tournaments. And by god, after not seeing her for a few years, she still looked like the frightening person that I saw, even after all of these years when I left her behind in New York City.

"Well isn't it Jordan Baker, what brings you here to the West?"

"Heard in New York City that Daisy came down one day, but you sent her away. Why, Nick?"

"Well, she was bringing up some bad memories of New York City and I didn't want to hear anymore of it. So do you need anything at all?"

"Well not exactly Nick, but that's not the only reason why I came down here. There's more to the story in New York City about what happened to Gatsby."

She gave me a look that told me she wanted to talk in private now, and when I looked behind me for a small second, I saw my dad walking towards us. She gave him a large smile, and when I stared at her face I saw that something in her mind was clicking together.

"Now I know where you got the looks from, Nick. Why, you must be Nick's father, I presume?"

"Yes, Mr. Carraway. And who might you be, ma'am?" 

"Jordan Baker, I'm a professional golfer."

He gave her a small nod, and looked at the both of us. I could see in his eyes, that whatever I did in New York City got me a bit mixed with fame and wealthy people.

"Mr. Carraway, would it bother you if I stole your son here for a while? I'll make sure he gets back before the store closes."

"Steal him all day until the morning sunrise if you like. And Nick, don't mess things up with this young lady here. He's all yours Miss Baker."

My dad gave me a rather hard pat on the shoulder, and went back to the storage area of the store. I slowly walked to the other side of the counter, while grabbing my coat and walked out of the store with her. My eyes darted up to her, and she gave me a rather gentle smile.

"So where would you like to go, Jordan?" 

"Oh, anywhere Nick. Why don't we go to your apartment? You know, away from the eyes of the media."

"Oh, why sure Jordan. Let us get moving then."

I waved my hand for a taxi, and one pulled up in front of us. Holding the door open to her, she stepped in and I followed after her. I gave my address to the taxi driver, and we slowly began to drive off as the snow began to pile up on the roads.


	3. Chapter 3

I welcomed Jordan into my apartment, and began to make a fresh pot of coffee for us to drink and warm up after being out in the cold for a while. She just stared at me while I worked on the coffee in the kitchen, as she lounged on the couch that I had. Once the coffee was done brewing, I brought a cup over to her and slowly drank out of the one that I had for myself.

"Sorry if it's not the type of coffee that you're use to Jordan, I don't bother touching the coffee that's too expensive or too rich for my tastes."

"Coffee is just coffee Nick, so no need to apologize. Back when I was down in Louisville, I would sometimes order the plainest coffee that I could get my taste buds on. Sometimes, it's better to have the plainest than the richest. And I was getting sick of all those coffee's with these rich flavors anyway."

She gave me the smallest wink imaginable, and I had to laugh a small bit at it. Deep down, I still had my love for her from when I first saw her in the Buchanan's mansion. Her just lying there on the couch with a magazine in her hand, and her eyes following me as I stood up on my feet. And now here she was, lying on my couch nearly fully extended and while I sat on the gray leather armchair in my living room.

"So tell me Jordan, what really brings you here?" 

"Something rather interesting and breathtaking, Nick. Everyone in New York City and all along the coastline of the city, we are all completely stunned by it. It was like everyone was caught completely off guard of the first tidal wave of an incoming storm!"

She stood up rather quickly, and leaned over me with wide eyes, looking as though she was afraid of whatever had happened over there in New York City.

"What happened Jordan?"

"I found Gatsby's handwritten will with Daisy, and all of the things that ever belonged to him, it's all in your hands now Nick and no one else's. He left all of his money, jewels, and every other fancy thing that people want to get their greedy hands on that you could imagine to you. And there is nothing in there for Daisy, nothing at all."

"He left all of his things to me? But why?"

"No one can really explain, but I'm thinking it's because of your friendship with Gatsby, Nick. He wrote a letter for me to read, and it said that you told him he was worth more than all of the people that he knew, worked and partied with in his lifetime along those lines. Except for the man whom owned that yacht that he worked for. Nick, you have to come back. And I'm not going to drag you like Daisy wanted to do with you, and not force you to do what Daisy and Tom wanted you to do."

"What do you mean by force me to do what Daisy and Tom wanted me to do, Jordan?"

She walked over to the window of my apartment, and stared down at the street below before saying a single word to me at all. Slowly, she turned her head and gave me the gayest smile ever.

"Nick, Daisy only came to see you when she read the will. She went on a small rampage, but I managed to protect the will from her. She wanted you to change the will where everything was handed over to her and Tom, and you would be left with nothing."

"So she is still caught up with the hope and dream of money and all of the worlds riches? Even after all of the things that she went through?"

"Why yes, but there's another problem in her life at the moment Nick."

"What problem, Jordan? What other problem could she have now?"

"The police. Before she drove out to see you, I heard them discussing something's about Gatsby and what they had done together. So I phoned the police, and told them to listen to the conversation over the phone and so they did. They heard how Daisy was the one who ran over Myrtle, and that they both pinned everything on Gatsby. And they heard how Tom fed them lies about how he knew Myrtle and George Wilson, and that he's the one who fed George Wilson the info about the car and everything else in between. And when they said they were coming over to make the arrests, I hung up the phone and acted like nothing happened at all. Want to know a deep secret, Nick?"

"What secret Jordan?" 

She walked over and set her coffee down on the coffee table, along with mine and sat down on my lap. She hooked her arms around my neck, and brought her lips close to my ear. Slowly, she whispered only nine words to me.

" _I got sick of them, Nick. That's my secret."_

She dragged her hands off from around my neck, and she rose up onto her feet and walked back towards the window. Her eyes didn't even bother to glance back at me for the longest while imaginable, but all that I could was stare at her for who knows how long. Slowly rising from off the armchair, I slowly walked up behind her and grasped her hand as gently as I could.

"Nick, why did we break up?"

"I think it was because after the event of Myrtle's death, that I began to realize what all of our true natures were really. Between the both of us, I held on to my integrity but you let yours go."

"My integrity?"

"Yes, and the fact that you didn't stay with Daisy when she needed you the most. That made a wound, Jordan, a very personal one at that."

"When Daisy needed me, you got to be joking Nick. When I walked into that house Tom had his mouth near her ear and was telling her things. And those things, I didn't hear of and know of then, but know of now. And from the looks of it, Daisy didn't need me at all during that time. I turned my head away, and quietly left before they took notice that I had stepped into the room. Another butler called a taxi for me, and I left long after you did."

She stared at me with compunctious and desiderium in her eyes, and I felt the compathy of knowing those feelings before. We all go through them, and I knew that deep down she did not like these emotions that are overwhelming her. But these emotions, they are unavoidable and they were only making us human.

Ever so slowly, I began to pull my hand away from hers but she grasped mine tightly before my own hand was fully pulled away from hers. She tugged on my hand and began to pull my arm, and I felt it go around her waist. My breathing was beginning to grow harder, but I slowly tried to compose myself from this.

"So Jordan, are you going to drag me back to New York too?"

"Who said anything about me dragging you back to New York, Nick? Never once have I spoken about dragging you to New York with me at all. Now coming to New York and living back in the Egg's again, now that's up to you and you alone. I can't force you Nick, only you can. But forcing yourself can also damage yourself, so come on your own free will Nick."

I wrapped my other arm around her waist carefully, and pressed my face between her neck and shoulder. I could smell her perfume upon her and the touch of her skin was as soft as newly made silk pillow.

Raising my head to where I could look through the window, I stared at the snow that was falling to the ground and wished that this moment would become a picture. A single picture, where all of us were frozen in this time and that nothing would be changed at all. And this is the moment that I want captured in that single photo, behind that single piece of glass surrounded by black wood with gold etchings upon it.

"So what are you going to do Nick? I mean, everything of Gatsby's is now yours and yours alone now. What's your plan?" 

"Well if anything, Jordan, it's been too long since I had been to New York. And I say it's time to face those horrible memories and those people who were in it just for the money and glory. I'm going to back to West Egg, and remind me to never touch the island of East Egg until I declare that it's time for me to go there and stand face to face with the Buchanan's."


	4. Chapter 4

The bustling sounds of New York City continued to fill the streets through the late evening hours, as I walked down the granite concrete mixed steps of the courthouse with a genuine smile upon my face. I already filled out the paperwork to receive everything that was set in the will that Gatsby left behind for me to inherit, and Jordan was there at my side and gave the will to the judge to read. And when I had stepped out of the courthouse with Jordan Baker by my side merely moments ago, there were cameramen and reporters surrounding us, but my smile never fell off of my face.

Reporters were asking questions if we got married to each other and or a bunch of other random questions, but we denied all of them. But I did say that if I wanted to marry a girl that I was in love with and if she was in love with me, I would get down on my knee and ask her. I could feel Jordan's eyes staring at me, and I had the feeling that statement surprised her. But I kept on walking, and there was a small tug on my arm and I felt her hand grasp firmly onto me as we walked through the crowds of reporters, who soon discovered that I became the newest bachelor in New York City after claiming everything that I was to receive in the will.

"So, you claimed a rather large inheritance Nick. So how does it feel like to be rich?"

Right in front of me was Tom Buchanan. He didn't look any different from the last time that I saw him, but I could see in his eyes that he was angry but yet thirsty at the same time for money and for power.

"How does it feel? Well Tom, I don't feel much different, still pretty much the same as I was before I claimed everything that was in the will. Say Tom, if you're so rich and all why are you asking me how it feels, when you already know how it feels? Or did you forget the feeling of being one of the most richest men on the east coast?"

I could hear Jordan laughing, as I watched Tom looking for the right words to talk back to me and all I did was smile at him. Nodding my head at him, I walked right by him and called for a taxi. As we sat in the taxi together, Jordan was still laughing and I began to laugh myself. My second encounter with a Buchanan, and so far I believe I am winning this battle.

"To Miss Jordan's Baker house please."

The car gave off a small lurch, and soon we were driving down the streets of New York City. I leaned back against the leather seats, and I felt Jordan rest her head against my shoulder. Glancing out my window, I saw a woman dressed in the new and current age of flapper clothes hanging out with a bunch of other women. They were all laughing their heads off and clinging to men, almost exactly like the group that I saw back in Minnesota not long ago. But the one that I recognized the most was Catherine, Myrtle's sister and the other person who knew about the affair with Tom Buchanan. And the sick feeling that I got when I remember something or someone of a bad event that happened to me, and by god I felt like I was going to have to stick my head out the window.

"Nick, are you alright? You don't look so well. Do you want to get a doctor to look at you?"

"No, no I'm fine Jordan. I was remembering something from so long ago, and it was making me sick to my stomach. So it's nothing to worry about."

"IF it's nothing to worry about like you said, then why is it making you sick to your stomach Nick? Are you going to tell me the reason behind it or say it's nothing to worry about to me?" 

She raised a simple eyebrow at me, and I ran my fingers through my hair nervously. I never thought about lying to Jordan directly in her face before, but the look in her eyes were only telling me that she was concerned over me. Her head turned away from me after a moment or two, but I quickly grasped her chin as gently as I could and made her face me.

"I saw Myrtle's sister, Catherine, and I remembered a rather disturbing memory from back then."

"Then tell me Nick, you don't need to hold back. You have my ears listening."

"The day when I went over to the Buchanan's, Tom made plans to drag me out to the Valley of Ashes where we stopped at the Wilson's garage shop. That is where I first met Myrtle, and Tom told her to call Catherine that she was coming to visit her, but in truth it was to actually go to a party at a hotel. And Catherine, she was already drunk when we arrived there and she didn't drink anything during the party."

I held open the large dark oak doors to the entryway of her house, and the two of us walked in together. We quietly walked up the staircase so we wouldn't disturb her Aunt who was in the library not too far away from us. Jordan opened up her bedroom door, and I cautiously walked in afraid of what might happen if I am caught in here.

"Relax Nick, nothing in my room is going to bite you. And my Aunt will only talk to me through my bedroom door or the phone, so you have nothing to worry about. So tell me the rest of the story about the party."

She stretched herself lightly across her rose cream chaise, and I could see the curiosity settling over her delicate eyes. It wasn't until a moment later I found myself sitting down on her matching rose cream armchair that was near her.

"I would be careful if I was you Jordan, curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back, Nick. So come on, tell me the rest already."

"The party was soon in full swing, with music flowing throughout the room and all of us getting drunk. It was roaring fun, and I did my best to leave but they convinced me to stay. It went on through the night, and up until dawn I think, but I really didn't know for I had passed out and woke up at my house, unsure of when I left or how I even got home at all. It's quite a mystery if you must know, but it was on that day that I realized Tom forced me into his little secret affair with his so call mistress."

"Well that is just horrible if you ask me, Nickie. No one should be forced into a private affair like that to help keep it a secret."

"Yes, it was indeed horrible and you can trust my words on that. If I was in a situation like that, who knows what I would do. I mean, I could use this information to blackmail people and get what I want."

"I wouldn't disagree with you there Jordan, you would do something like that to certain people. Even careless people."

She gave off a small laugh, and we grew quiet for a while. I stared out of her large white-rimmed windows, and I could almost see New York City glowing from all of its bright lights. And the faint memory of watching Gatsby out on his pier staring out at the green light of the Buchanan's house hazily flooded my mind. Slowly, I began to reach out towards the light almost the same way as Gatsby did so long ago when I first saw him that evening.

If only the memory could be more clear in my mind.


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up with the desire of having a tall glass of water and painkillers filling my mind. My head was spinning at an alarming rate, to where everything looked like a blur before me and nothing made sense at all. I felt utterly lost and confused right at this single moment, and unaware of what events had happened during the night.

As I sat up, everything around me moved in a completely different direction and there was a rush of coldness upon me. When my eyes could finally make out the shapes of the room, I noticed that the windows were open and that the morning sun had barely begun to rise. There was the small sound of a glass being set down on a table, and slowly I got out of the bed and walked towards the direction of the sound.

"Do you want a cup of tea, Nick? It might help that headache of yours."

I stumbled over a chair leg, and felt my breath fleeing right out of me just as a hand caught my arm. Steadying myself, I was forced to sit upon either a chair or sofa, all the while trying to collect my nerves. A hand was pressed gently against my forehead, and there was a small sigh of relief after the hand fell away.

"You're not sick, that's a good thing. Here, drink some tea already."

A warm cup was placed into my hands, and I slowly drank it with caution. For who knows how long, I'd sat upon this simple peace of furniture, staring out of a window watching the morning sun slowly rise upon the horizon. Hours must have passed till I felt well enough to move around and be fully aware of my surroundings.

"Sir, here are a fresh pair of clothes for you to change into. They belong to one of Miss Baker's cousins, when they visited about two months ago and left them here. Freshly clean and pressed to their best condition. Miss Baker insists that you change into them."

I stared up at the butler before me and gradually accepted the clothes from him, and he motioned me towards a bathroom where I could have some privacy and alone time. He closed the door behind me, and I listened to his footsteps as they became quieter until I could hear them no more. It almost reminded me of the music from Gatsby's parties when they would bang all night long, but die down gradually as the morning sunlight began to fill the night sky.

" _You're worth the whole damn bunch put together."_

The words were barely a whispered, but they almost seemed to have echoed in the bathroom. I wish I could have said more that day, maybe even stayed there till the late evening hours and pass up working on that day. Maybe if I had, Gatsby could still be alive and maybe, just maybe, Wilson could have been stopped and told who had really killed his wife and it could have all been avoided. If only I had said more to him.

I set the clothes onto a small stand that was by the sink, and stared at myself in the mirror. I was a complete and utter wreck from the events of last night. . . Or maybe it's because of the fact that when I moved away I vaguely took care of what I looked like at all. But staring at myself in the mirror, there were faint bags under my eyes; my brown hair was made into a mess that looked as though a barber had cut it horribly wrong; and five o'clock shadow was starting to look as though it was becoming a beard now. Opening the medicine cabinet, I found some supplies that weren't there the night before and began to make myself decent once more.

It was merely half an hour, when I was finished cleaning myself up and changing into the soft cotton clothes, which I was given. Leaving the bathroom, I wandered around the bedroom for a moment or two, hesitating if I should step out or not. I wasn't nervous or that sort, it's just that my thoughts were still a bit scrambled up here and there inside my head. So it was rather a bit hard for me to think about what I was going to do exactly, without doing anything stupid. But this was even more stupid of me, to keep myself locked up in here all day without even adventuring outside of the room for even a single moment.

Swallowing a small bit of pride, I opened up the door and stepped out into the brightly lit hallway that seemed as though it stretched out for miles without any end at all. The windows before were me were cracked open, and a small cold breeze was slowly filling the hallway. Shivering to its cold touch, I quickly walked away from it as quickly as my feet would even take me, without causing much of a disturbance to the other rooms if anybody else was here inside them.

Finding myself at the stairwell, I saw Jordan Baker leaning against the banister with rather ease looking down below. For a small moment, all I could do was stare at her as her green dress sparkled from the light of the chandelier that hung from above. Her brown hair was still a bit of a mess as though stating that she had not finished getting ready for the day ahead of her. But out of the corner of her brown eyes, she motioned me towards her and I quietly stepped down to be by her side, and she spoke to me in a low whisper.

"My aunt is on the phone currently, and it doesn't sound good at the moment."

"What do you think is happening, Jordan? Were you able to hear anything?"

"No, I don't know what's happening at all. And I vaguely heard what she was talking about on the phone before she closed the door. But I do know that it's about me, for I heard her say my name over and over again."

The door below gave out a loud creek as though a ghost had scared the life out of a person, and Jordan pulled me upstairs to not be caught by her aunt. She led me to parlor room, which had rich light and dark color furniture around the room but she kept walking to a pair of dark brown French doors, and swung them open to a balcony. She threw herself upon a sea-blue chaise with brown trim and stared up at the sky for a moment or two before turning her head away. Her face held a troubling look, and it didn't look as though she was going to drop it anytime soon.

I slowly approached her and knelt down on to the ground, grasping her hands with mine. Her eyes stared into mine, and I moved the hair that was falling into her eyes away from her face.

"Jordan, there's something more is there?"

"Daisy called last night. She's angry Nick, not just at you but also with me. Tom, he's furious. I believe he is ready to explode and use some of his resources against you."

"Anything else I should know about?"

"No, there was nothing more."

"Tell me Jordan, there has to be more than what you are saying! The truth will come out one way or another, and we both know that. So just say what you have to say and get it off of your shoulders."

My hands were now clasped on to her shoulders, and slowly they slid down her arms and grasped her hands once more. Her eyes stared at me with affection and a small dash of hope within them, believing that there might be something between after all. And all I did was just simply nod my head at her in agreement.

"Daisy found out that you were with me, and that everything of Gatsby's is now in your hands. She's almost as furious as Tom is now. But poor little Pammy, she's scared to death by the both of them and they don't even see it. Nick, things aren't the same anymore as they once use to be, if anything the Buchanan's are power and money hungry now, even though Tom is the heir to one of the wealthiest families here in America."

"So all because I signed the papers and everything belongs to me, they're going to start up a war with me to get the money and everything else that was part of the will? It's just stupid money, it's not even that important to me."

"If it's not that important to you Nick, why did you sign the will?"

"Because I want to show these people in New York, that I don't need to be big, fancy, and rich to live a happy and content life. So I'm going to show them what I can do, and how I can do it all without going over the top like everyone else in New York."

"So what you do want to do first?'

"Well, I need a place here in New York first. Once I got that figured out, I'll go back to my job that I had with bonds and see if my boss will hire me again. I was really decent, and he said that I was pretty amazing at how I did things with bonds and got people to buy more than they expected."

"Then shall we get this plan into action?"

"Not today, for today we need to find a way to stop the Buchanan's slowly and carefully. We can't make any mistakes at all, Jordan. If we do, then we need to take a step back and watch what will happen to all of us as the Buchanan's merely smile knowing that they made a win."


	6. Chapter 6

My old boss Walter Chase was glad to have me back and working with bonds again. Though he was curious as to why a newly rich man like _me_ needed a job, when I already have millions of dollars in my pockets.

"I may be rich, but I'd like to earn my own money and show that I'm not like the other rich people here in New York. I'd rather work my way up and earn what I can in life, than have it given to me on a silver platter."

"Well then Mr. Carraway, your skills will be quite useful here. I want you working here at nine o' clock in the morning tomorrow. No delay. Do you understand, Mr. Carraway?" 

"I understand, sir."

We simply shook hands with each other, and parted our own ways. I stepped out into the coldness of New York City, and yelled out for a taxi right before my feet stepped near the curb. Some kept driving right on by, empty, and they didn't stop or at least even noticed me at all. It merely took about five minutes for a driver to notice me and allow me into the car. Once I was seat, I gave him the address to an apartment building and we sped down the road.

By the time that my watch read eleven in the morning, I knew that I was running a bit late with meeting Jordan at the apartment building of my new place. My heart was beating rather quickly, as I gave the taxi driver the money I owed him and rain inside to the front desk of the building. Jordan was lightly tapping her foot on the tile floor, leaning against the desk diligently with a face upon her that looked as though she was truly miles away from here.

"I'm here Jordan, sorry for the wait."

She snapped out of the daze that she cast herself in, and stared at the clock on the wall in silence before she to me.

"I already got you apartment, Nick. Paid for the next three months, so lets get this tour on already."

The two of us stepped into the elevator, and Jordan told the operator to go to the ninth floor. Which happens to also be the final floor of the building, but there is a large apartment room that has a second floor to it. We all stood in silence the rest of the way, until there was a small ding that we reached our floor and the doors opened up. Jordan quickly stepped out with me at her heels, thanking the operator, and she led me to the end of the hallway and shoved a single key into a keyhole. She motioned me to turn it, and when I did, there was a small click and I pushed the door open.

There was a short hallway, which expanded into a bigger room; the white carpet floor was like a blank canvas. A black staircase was against the edge of one wall, where the floor to ceiling windows were over looking the bay down below. I approached the windows with caution, as I stared out towards the dark stormy color waters, wondering if the Buchanan's could even see me or know that I nearby.

"They don't know that you are just a mile away from them, Nick. They won't ever find out, so you're safe, as they won't bother coming down here. It doesn't look as fancy as it does up there. I hope that you enjoy, Nick, your new place. . . If you don't like it then, we can get the money back and go somewhere else if you want different scenery and -"

"This is perfectly fine with me, Jordan. There's no need to go somewhere else and look, and wasting some more of your time. So I'm going to bet that I owe you back for all of this?"

"Lunch is fine with me, but dinner would be perfect. Just you and me, no one else, Nick, then we can enjoy the company of being two just alone."

We stared at each other eye to eye, and I could feel my throat closing in on itself. She quickly turned away from me and walked towards the center of the room. Her hands perched themselves onto a couch that I did not see before, and she stiffened a small bit.

"But not today, I've already have plans with some people. I'll be busy all day, and I won't have any time to get away. . . It's just the way that life is, and we can't change it."

Walking over to her, I grasped one of her hands and pulled her with me back to windows that over looked the bay. Moving my hands onto her upper arms, my fingers made small circles on her arms, and I could slowly feel her relax.

"Tell them that you need to reschedule dinner, I'm taking you out tonight. Anywhere you like to go, we'll go there. I'll buy for the both of us, and if I have too, I'll use some of the money I inherited. So what do you say Jordan? Do you want to go out with me?" 

Her eyes flashed up at me with a sudden brightness in them, and I could tell that she was going to say yes to me. A small laugh came out from between her lips, and she placed a hand on the back of my neck, while staring out of the window.

"Now you're making an offer, I can't refuse. Let me give my friends a quick call and then we'll talk about dinner. It's a good thing that the phones here stay set up every time someone moves away and another person moves in. Makes things easier on everyone, cause then you don't have to get someone to set it up over and over again."

I watched her as she walked to another room, still talking to me about the phones.

"And most people, when they move disconnect the lines of their homes! Call that hell if you tell me, cause there are times when my friends are looking for new homes and when they need to make a call, their phones are disconnected."

I laughed a small bit, as my new home grew quiet. Just barely, I could hear Jordan talking on the phone and her voice grew fainter as I walked back towards the windows. Gatsby's laugh ranged through the air, and I smiled to myself at the times when the two of us were laughing our heads off.

"They didn't sound disappointed at the fact that I won't be joining them due to an evening engagement with a man. . . The girls were hoping that I would get with a man, sometime, so they're gay for me. Hopefully, they'll get themselves men to fall for soon, instead of flinging off from one man to another just about every night."

She broke out laughing a small bit, and her arms clung around mine. I would have toppled over by the weight of her pulling on my arm, if she hadn't stepped forward. Grinning a small bit, I flicked my fingers through her hair with gentleness, where she leaned up against me like I sturdy marble column, that would never fall. Slowly but surely, I believed to myself that I was becoming an object in her life that she would never dream of ever letting go.


	7. Chapter 7

The bustling lights of New York City, were dancing tonight as we stepped out of the taxi and into the busy sidewalk, flowing with people of all sorts. Men dressed to their finest suits and accessories that they could possibly wear, women showing off their forms in dresses that appeared as though they came out of movies, defectors of high schools laughing and fooling off in the streets, gangsters walking by and watching every single person that passed by them. As for me, I held Jordan tightly by her hand as we walked down the busy sidewalk to the restaurant doors. When we stepped in, I could feel my breath stop moments before I could even let it out of my chest.

Waiters bustled up and down the stairs and elevators of the five or seven restaurant, which glistened like diamonds, freshly polished and shined in the light for the first time. The rich and glorious people dazzled in through the door, some uninvited or others loudly announced at the front desk. Large groups hung around the tables, flowing the first floor with jewels of colors, mixing all together like a rainbow after a sunny shower in the middle of springtime. With Jordan, we flowed up the third floor and seated at a table in front of a painting showing a scenic pond glistening in the early morning sunlight. Looking at it, I could feel as though it had to be real at one point, the trees lightening in the sunlight, the animals slowly awakening, and quite possible I could almost hear the birdcalls slowly stirring to the new dawn.

We sat in silence, listening to the laughing crowd below us that never seemed to have died down. I ordered a simple bottle of whiskey for the both of us to enjoy, as the restaurant had no regards for the 18th amendment, like everyone else. I was grasped into the world of which I had grown disgusted of that very evening.

The music sounded throughout the entire building, floating in and out of our ears, mixing with the laughter and the cries of people partying down below. Jordan and I, we hardly spoke a single word to each as we dined together, we were caught up watching all the people around us, acting like they were truly at an actual party giving off the smallest amount of care of others looking down at them, ever so wondering why as to they were like this? Was it because this is what society has come down too?

A shrilling cry ended the music, and the laughers grew quiet. Jordan and I moved over to the railing to see what was going on down below, along with other people and we stared at a group below. Down there was Tom Buchanan, who was comforting a woman with a bloody nose and shouting at men to bring ice. He kissed her on her forehead, and I retreated back to the table with Jordan at my side.

"Apparently, Tom cleared his name about everything, but he didn't clear Daisy's name at all. He's letting her take all the blame and charges for what's happened. It's in all the papers."

"So now, he walks a free man and Daisy going to rot behind bars? The both of them should be rotting behind bars together. For everything that they've done."

"Well how do you plan we do that?"

"We? What do you mean by that Jordan?"

"You think I'm going to let you do this alone? Like you, I've had enough of those two going around and about, having these affairs and getting caught up in creating trouble for other people. I say, _we_ , take them both down together."

"We're going to need help then. And I know someone who can get me a connection, and he's a friend of Gatsby's."

"I like where this is going, but let's handle this tomorrow, because tonight we are dining all because you asked me out."

Her laughter lighted up the area around the two of us, and we continued on with our evening, acting like we hadn't seen Tom Buchanan at all or his little affair. As we basked over each other, I couldn't shake off the feeling of seeing Tom with a new mistress, another one which he could so easily lose like Myrtle Wilson. The woman that gained the bloody nose from down below, had traveled up the stairs with a group of her friends and they chattered at their loudest.

"He's going to leave his wife for me, I'm more beauty and grace than she'll ever be."

"Plus, she doesn't have your cute little nose or your gorgeous curls."

"I'm sure Tom is dying to have you, Gracie. That little Daisy of his is no match against a four time beauty pageant queen, say when's your next contest?"

"In June sometime. I'm staying out of the sun as much that I can, but still trying to make sure I'm not getting too pale. I heard that Daisy is a backstabbing cheater. She went behind her husband back too many times, sleeping with other men."

"I heard her daughter is the child of a different man, one that she met days after they went on their honeymoon."

My eyes darted over towards Jordan, and I could see her teeth slowly grinding as the group walked past us. I could see that was holding herself back from attacking those girls so the evening wouldn't be ruined in the end. Standing up, I nodded at her and we walked up behind the group with a few feet between us.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but hear that you were talking about a woman name Daisy Buchanan."

The girl that Tom had comforted, named Gracie, turned towards us and gave us a rather gay smile.

"Why yes, I did. Do you know anything?"

"Just that Tom is the real man cheating on Daisy, and that her daughter is Tom's real daughter. Why a few years back, they left New York as Tom promised to take better care of the two of them. And Daisy, she was the one that was being victimized by Tom."

Jordan gave me a small smile, and she stepped forward to put her own words into the conversation.

"I heard that Daisy accidentally killed his last mistress all because she ran out into the road screaming Tom's name at the top of her lungs. And he made the husband of that woman believe that it was another man that was driving the car, and not his wife. I'm surprise they got away with conspiracy and murder for two, possibly three people, total."

Gracie stared at the two of us dumbfounded by our words, and Jordan beckoned me to leave the restaurant with her. As we slowly started to leave, I looked at Gracie in her eyes and told her a few last words.

"That man that was killed by the mistress husband, he was better than Tom Buchanan. That man was worth more than the whole damn bunch put together. And he was my greatest friend out of everyone that I met here in New York."

I quickly walked off and caught up with Jordan, who stood waiting at the table writing down on a piece of paper where to forward the check too. Slipping my arm over hers, I tugged her slowly with me as we left the restaurant in a quiet manner, words inexpressible towards the both of us. We caught a taxi, sitting in it ever quietly as we drove to my apartment, which still remained unfurnished.

"I need to make a call with a man who fixed the World Series of 1919, tomorrow Jordan, so I might be busy tomorrow once I'm off work."

"Call me, when that call is done, Nick. I want in on whatever you have in that mind of yours. To let you know, I think Gatsby has smudge himself all over you, you aren't the same like you were back then. I loved the old you, but that old you is still shining throughout all this. It's hard to say, but now, you've grown into someone more than what you use to be."

"What do you mean, Jordan?"

"What I mean is, you aren't shy like you use to be. You're taking on some risks now, and not stepping away from it once you're pulled in. I remember when you would try to leave and make excuses for yourself on why you shouldn't stay. . . But now, it's like you don't want to leave at all. You're caught in the web of New York, Nick, a web that's almost impossible to escape from but you still have your original character. And I love that about you."

I thought about Jordan's words as I stared out the window, looking at the lights of cars pass by us every single second. Rubbing my eyes, I glanced over at Jordan, who sat there playing around with one of her gloves, occasionally glancing over at me. When our eyes met, she gave me a quick smile and looked away, but I directed her face towards mine and passionately our lips met upon each other.

Our boats had crashed upon each other, as we hit the rocky shore. We had become engulfed by the cold water of the sea, that bashed us against the rocks till we were broken apart from each other by the jutting rock that made us take different sides.

My hands flicked her hair carefully, as we walked into the elevator to my apartment, our breath were all that we ever heard for each other, except when I told the operator what floor to go too. We enter my apartment quietly, and I noticed that most of the boxes that I brought with me were here and practically unpacked. I could see the white couch now, as a grey and brown mixed blanket was draped over it.

"I had the movers unpack and set up your stuff, paid them a good tip at that too. If you want to rearrange it, you can."

"No it's all fine at the moment, I'll see that if I need to change anything I will later on. As for right now, there a different matter to attend to."

"You mean, the matter that happened in the back of the taxi?"

"We are ships on the tide Jordan, bound to be pushed and pull by the waves till we crash upon the coast, where our wreckage awaits for the both of us. Our sails are set, slowly being blown by the wind as we set our course to head towards the shore."

She laughed at my words, and her arms slowly went around my sides as she pulled herself close to me.

"You have funny ways of saying things, Nick. The way you say stuff, it's like it's all coming out of a book that you've read over and over again. The way the words come out of your outs, it's all like it's from a boom that no one has yet to read, a book that has been barely been born."

"Well my words, are great heap of a mess in my head, and I place the words together as they seem fit. So I guess you may call me a book, if you wish."

She silenced me by a kiss, and we fell onto the couch covered by the blanket. My hands slid down her arms ever so delicately across her silk skin, and her fingers slowly became entangled with my hair. We were driven by our passion, colliding with the shore once but with this time there was more force to crashing upon the shore.


	8. Chapter 8

Word has once more gotten out about Daisy within the week, days after the incident at the restaurant. Rumors were glowing across the city like wildfire on a warm summer day, making Tom Buchanan flee New York City with his new mistress in tow, leaving his wife and daughter behind in all the rumors and words that brought sorrow down onto the Buchanan's.

I had woken up the following morning in bed, with Jordan wrapped in my arms. Her face was lightly pressed against my chest, her breath grazing across my skin. The sun lightly graced her hair that fringed her face perfectly, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. My fingers grazed gently through her delicate hair, carefully enough to not wake her up from her peaceful slumber.

My other hand slowly grazed up her back, running over the bumps of her spine, till I my hand settled between her shoulders. My eyes never strayed away from her, watching her every little sleeping movement till they slowly fluttered open. A smile broke open over her face, giving her a bit of warmth that came after all the winter snow that had melted all away by the spring sun.

"Morning, Nickie."

Her voice was low, but it held a light syrupy tone to it. I was slowly grasped into it, and my lips slowly caressed over hers. She held ever so tightly onto me, as I did to her.

The winter days slowly passed by, and the warmth of the sun started to slowly light up the world around me. Jordan remained elusive from me for a very long while, very much like Tom Buchanan. Not a single phone call came from her, nor was there any word about her in the newspapers. But I held onto some sort of hope, that she would rise up again and make everyone look her way, as though she was a famous beauty that had once disappeared and came back to everyone once more.

But Lady Luck, seemed to be dying upon me for the longest while. March slowly turned into April, which soon became May. I called her aunt, Sigourney Howard, and we spent time on the phone talking about things like the past and our families. But when I brought any word about her niece, Jordan, the phone would die on me.

I concentrated on my work each day, sometimes waiting to see if my phone would ring and she would be on the other end, but that call didn't come till it was the early days of June. June fourth was when that call finally came. It was early in the morning, and I wasn't even fully awake yet.

"Hello?"

"I missed your voice, Nickie. It's so dreadful to not be near you and hear it coming out from between your lips."

Her voice snapped me wide-awake, and I stared out the window. Looking at a world of complete nothing, and then seeing her reflection in the window, knowing that she wasn't truly there.

"Jordan, where are you? What's been going on? I've been wondering about you for the past few months? Hoping, knowing that you would call -"

"Oh Nickie, you're not alone in that train here. I'm not supposed to call you, but I'm down at Santa Barbara. My family thought it would be fun to get out of New York and not tell anyone, my aunt decided to stay behind and try to cover things up for us. Listen Nick, when I get back we got a lot to do. I can't talk about it right now, I need to go. I'll see you in a few days."

She hung up on the phone before I could say another word, and the smiles that I kept on forcing back for the longest while suddenly burst through my façade and became reality. She was due to return soon, and I will be waiting for her with open arms.

And now, I waited for her return to me. I had become a servant of hers, waiting for her word to do something underneath her careful eye. A servant that would never disobey her, till the very day that either one of them die. I was her loyal dog that followed her at the back of her heels, afraid to let her out of my sight.

By the end of the week, Jordan Baker had returned back to New York City.

Reporters were filling the air with words about her long vacation in Santa Barbara, how she merely went there to get out of the New York air and begin a fresher life. But beginning a fresher life, that wasn't able to happen at all. She had driven back to New York, after fleeing from the demanding family that she had traveled with to her so called "vacation." And she was waiting by my door for me to arrive; with her arms wide open and they quickly encircled my neck as our lips slowly brought us together. The key fumbled with the lock for a moment, but soon we were inside my apartment and I could hear the door closing behind us. We rested on the couch for a while, and she told me the truth of her so-called "vacation."

"Daisy was there with me. She took me to Santa Barbara. She convinced me to go with her. Told me that she needed some help. So I went with her, and a few of my cousins."

Her words dripped into my ears, floating slowly around my head in circles like a toy train on its tracks.

"Went to a party one night, and she got drunk. I found her three hours later in bed with a man. A few other guests came by and gawked with me, and I think a few photos were taken. I don't know by whom, but I didn't say anything at all to Daisy. I wanted her to be humiliated."

Her words sounded like a bunch of gossip, pricking me in the ears. I didn't believe her words at first, till she showed me a newspaper from Santa Barbara, with Daisy sleeping the man that Jordan told me about on the front cover.

Their voices, she told, their words had spread like wild fire all over Santa Barbara. They had lit up the night sky, like thousands of stars slowly appearing above our heads. Every single word was grasping me, pulling me into the story like a little boy watching a man give him an ice cream cone on a hot summer day.

She told me every single detail of how Daisy was being shunned by just about everyone in Santa Barbara. Some restaurants had even turned her away, unless she was with Jordan and her cousins, and her cheeks were burning red with embarrassment.

We dined in my dining room, enjoying the cool breeze that was slowly floating in through the open windows. We had talked about their subjects, even her time down in Santa Barbara.

"So have you reached that man that you were to call?"

"Yes, I did. He said that he was coming by tomorrow, to assist. He loves the thought of bringing down the Buchanan's after what they did to Gatsby. We didn't start off on good terms at first, but we got to know each other other after a while, and he is a rather good ally."

"And what role am I going to play, Nickie?"

"Whatever role you want to play, Jordan. What you do, I can't control, only you can. Now if you were a character in a book, I would have you play around with the Buchanan's. Mess with their heads, and pretend that you don't care about me anymore as if I broke your heart once more."

She ever so laughed lightly, and stretched her hand out to me across the table. Reaching out, I grasped her hand ever so gently, afraid to even break it with the smallest touch. Getting out my chair, I walked over to her side and kissed her neck. A slow breath of hair, escaped from between her lips and we became a crashing tide upon each other.

I ever so wanted her to stay here, to be safe within my arms and away from people that would ever so lay a simple finger upon her that would scratch her soft, silk skin. Even wait for her every morning to see her wake up ever so beautifully in the basking early morning glow, to see the fluttering of her eyes catching the smallest sparks of light. And hear her sweet, syrupy voice in the morning when she first sees me.


	9. Chapter 9

At the appointed time, Meyer Wolfsheim was at my door. A smile upon his face, and the human molars specifically noticeable. We gave each other a quick hug, and I welcomed him into my home. He still looked very cleaned up, like the first time when Gatsby introduced us. It was there that I told him why I invited him over.

"So you want to play with the Buchanan's?"

Always straight to the point.

"Why yes, they've been playing around long enough already. High time that they get kicked out of their own game."

"I believe we can do this. So how do you want to up show them? We can throw them into court, upstage them at formal events. . ."

His words droned on and on, becoming faint mumbles to my ears as I stared out the large windows of my living room that over looked the bay. Him just being here, reminded me of Gatsby. The day that he took me into town for lunch, and introduced me to Meyer. Then the unplanned run in with Tom Buchanan.

"A party."

"Excuse me, Mr. Carraway?"

"We'll throw a party."

The excitement slowly began to roar through me.

"We'll invite all of New York City. From the Valley of Ashes to all over East Egg, even the Buchanan's. We can ask Jordan if we can use her house for the party, because I don't have enough space here."

The click of the front door filled the room, and I looked over at Jordan who was hanging her coat up on the coatrack.

"What about my house, Nick?"

"A party, Jordan. We'll through an extravagant party, just like Gatsby would. The lights, music, decorations, the food. We can probably find old Klipspringer. . . No, not him, he's a man who doesn't have much respect. He just uses people for parties and the drinks."

"Nick, are you even hearing yourself? What if this doesn't go as plan? Wolfsheim, talk to him about this. Right now, this isn't sounding like a good idea."

"Well Miss Baker, this is sounding quite grand. If we can pull it off, then who knows what the next party will be like."

"And why my house?"

"The Buchanan's they trust you still, right? They don't trust me, and you can take all the credit for the party. So when will that dinosaur of an aunt of yours will be out of town?"

She grinned at my words of calling her aunt a dinosaur, and pulled a journal out of her purse.

"Tomorrow she is leaving, and she won't be back for two weeks. So we got time to do a few parties. When do you want the first party?"

"In three days. So, shall we get to business?" 

"If you got Miss Jordan already in on this Nick, then I am in too. I'll get my friends to help us. Let us bring these Buchanan's down."

"Well, why don't we got to a restaurant for drinks for the three of us and celebrate for this?"

"I'll grab my coat Nickie, and we'll take my car. Now, let's go."

Laughing a small bit, Meyer followed after the both us and we traveled around New York City for the night. We talked to some of Jordan's friends and people that Wolfsheim knew of, and soon things were going well on the way.

We slowly drew out our plans, and agreed on things that we wanted and didn't want for the party. Jordan knew nearly about every person there was on East and West Egg, and said she'll spread the word. I pulled out a piece of folded paper that had names, addresses, and numbers on them and she grinned at me with excitement.

"People will be dying as to how you got the addresses of celebrities and other important people of New York, Nick. Why, you got the Marlene Moon too. This will definitely get Tom crazy, because he's hooked on her."

"I'll send her a personal invite then."

Meyer let out a laugh, as we sat a private table, drinking glasses of wine. We joined his laughter moments later, till I felt a heavy slap on my back and I looked up to see the commissioner of New York City behind me. He held a glass of red wine up for a toast and I clanked my glass against his with gratitude.

"Heard you're planning a party. Hope you plan to invite me?" 

"Oh, why of course you're invited, Commissioner. I would never forget to invite someone like you to any party. Why, any party that I throw, you are always welcome to attend. Invitation or no invitation."

He broke out into a merry laugh and went over to his table, who were all drinking wines, beers, and other assortments of drinks. Grinning and giving off a small laugh on my own, I turned back to Jordan and Meyer.

"Getting the commissioner on your side by inviting him, a wonderful thought, Nickie. Pretty sure that you've earned some respect with him."

Nodding my head at Jordan, we drew back into our silence and brew ideas up in our heads. Jordan's hand reached across the table and I took it ever so gently, not wanting to leave a single scratch or bruise upon her. Glancing up at her, she gave me a smile, looking at me with her delicate eyes above the light pink roses, that were slowly blooming to the world.

The sight of roses, for the coming of spring. A new beginning for many, laughter and happiness filling the air, and new joy blossoming in our world. The innocence and purity of a new season, will be washing over us in the coming days, and everyone will be excited for anything that will coming up their doorsteps.

"Roses. Roses, will be our theme."

"Why roses, Mr. Carraway?"

"They're to represent the new season. The new hopes and inspirations that are coming to our world. A new beginning."

A new beginning for us all, as the snow on the ground slowly starts to fade away as the warm breeze slowly begins to fill the air around us all.


	10. Chapter 10

People flocked into Jordan's house, dressed in bold colors, creams, some of them shimmering from sequins or glittery fabrics, but all had roses with them. Some real or some fake, but no matter what, roses were the invitation to the party.

And I managed to get a glimpse of Tom and Daisy together.

Tom had gotten his name clear about his affair, claiming it to be **"blackmail"** by that young woman, and had gotten away with it. But the few of us who knew the truth about Daisy and Tom, we saw through the lies that they were setting. For we had known them for so long, we were no longer blind to their words of their charade.

Jordan had came down the staircase just as the Buchanan's slipped into the formal dining room to mingle with the more famous and known people of New York City. A double v-neck dusty rose dress with gold tassel-like thread hanging on the dress a fourth of the way up from the hemline. A gold rose choker-corsage was strapped around her neck, and she placed a golden rose on my suit jacket.

Laughing a small bit, I slipped my arm around Jordan's waist, and the two of us walked down the staircase together. Her head, lightly rested against my shoulder like it was familiar to that position upon me. By the time that we stepped onto the floor, we were pulled into the flowing river of guests. Many were drinking and getting drunk or dancing to their hearts content, talking till they were laughing with tears in their eyes.

Jordan and I, we got ourselves consumed in the whole scene till we found each other at the bar several hours after the party had started. My fingers were dancing over her knuckles, and she closed the distance that was between us, for me to kiss her on the lips. Her fingers laced through my brown hair, trying to grasp it as my arms tightened around her.

Glitter fell down on all of us and the two of us broke away as we saw the shower of gold, pink, red, white, green, and other various shades rain down upon us all. Laughing a bit, I twirled Jordan around to capture all of the colors so she could be decorated in the beautiful glitz of the rainbow.

"Is that you, Nicky?" 

Looking away from Jordan for a split second, I saw Daisy and Tom walking into view. Jordan had looked in the same direction as I had, and I could see her frowning from the corner of my eye.

"Should have known you would have been at this party, Nick. So Jordan are you the host?"

"I most certainly hope not, Tom. My Aunt Sigourney, she loves to let people borrow this house for parties if they know how to ask correctly. I don't know who put this all together for all of New York City to enjoy."

Daisy held onto a classic walk, and grasped Jordan by her hands.

"Well if you find out who threw this beautiful party, make sure to find me and tell me."

I had tried to step away, but Daisy grabbed me by the wrist and looked at me with her big brown eyes, and gave me one of her many little smiles that gave her the appearance of an angel.

"We didn't forget to bring roses, Nick, we brought roses didn't we Tom?"

"Why yes we did, Daisy. We each brought one."

"Gold petal roses with silver leaves. The centers have sapphires or were the centers citrine? Oh, either way, they're not hard to miss? They us somewhere on the railings of the grand staircase, where all of the other roses are at. Oh, Jordan, don't forget to tell me who threw this lovely little party."

"I'll try to remember, Daisy. Now Nicky we must be going, some of my old friends want to meet with you. Plus, we know how the both of these two really are, they don't fool us."

Daisy flinched at Jordan's words, as Jordan dragged me away by my wrist through the crowds of people. Every few seconds, I would glance behind me to see if Tom and Daisy were following after us, but they weren't for the longest while.

"Well, isn't it the woman who acted like Mr. Gatsby. How do you do?"

Turning to my left, I saw Owl Eyes with a glass of wine in his hand, grinning at the both of us with pleasure on his face. Laughing a small bit, I held my hand out to him and he gladly gave me a light hand shake.

"Owl Eyes, good to see you. It's been too long."

"Pleasure to see you both again, fantastic party if I say so. I hope you don't mind if I snuck in with a few roses upon me."

"Oh why, if you brought a rose Mr. Owl Eyes, you are welcome to the party. Now, why don't we just stop standing here and have some fun? This is a party after all."

Jordan threw a small wink at me, and I could feel a laugh crawling up my throat. The three of us walked around the whole mansion, talking to party guests to see how they were doing and I was finally announced as the host of the party. The hours droned on by, people coming and going, and the roses were just growing.

Tables became littered with roses after the stairway railings couldn't take anymore roses on, and people were soon posing and taking photos with them. As the few hours of morning slowly came upon all of us, the guests vanished as they came and soon not a single of note of music filled the air.

Jordan was sitting the banisters of the staircase, plucking off the petals to some of the roses, letting them fall upon the steps. Sitting down next to her, I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to me, breathing in the perfume that barely lingered upon her.

"You sure know how to through a wonderful party, Nick."

"I learned how to throw the party from Gatsby. He had extraordinary parties Jordan, and I was invited from each one and stayed after the last guest left. We had long talks, he told me all the keys to have a successful party, and with all that he told me, I used it to make this one. Does this make me a successful as he was with parties?"

"Oh Nickie, it doesn't matter how successful the two of you were. Long as you feel that you accomplished putting a party together and knowing everyone enjoyed it, that's all you need to know that your parties were successful. So what should we do about these roses?"

"Let's think about it in the morning, after we get a good night of sleep. We'll go through the roses then and figure out what to do with them. I'd rather get some rest, for tonight was a night that I don't think we will ever forget."

"Don't I know that. And when we wake up, we'll feel hung over and drunk like. Probably tired and sore too, god knows how many times I woke up sore after a night of fun like this. Betting in the morning, this party is going to be in all of the papers. And people will be wanting more parties, so we better start planning."

"I say we do two or three a month, then that way things don't go crazy and everyone gets a break from it all. Each theme will be different, no party will be the same, and if we do a few a month, then we got time to plan them all out."

She gave out a gentle laugh, and the two of us walked off towards her bedroom. She unlocked the door with a key, and I shut the door behind us. Staring at her, my hands grazed over waist and we stared at the windows of her bedroom. She had told me her Aunt replaced them while she was gone, and she liked the look that it had given her bedroom now. She slipped out of my grasp, and vanished into a room that was joined to her bedroom. Going into a different joined room, I changed into the nightclothes that I had left here and walked back into the bedroom.

The bedroom lights were out, but I could see her figure standing by the windows. It was illuminated by the moonlight, giving her an angels glow as she stared at the moon that was above us all. Slipping my fingers through hers, I pulled her into bed, letting her press herself against me. My chin rested on the top of her head, and her warm breath flittered down my skin.

Raising her head a small bit, I planted a gently kiss upon her lips.


	11. Chapter 11

Roses that were wilting, were put into bags and taken out to be rid of. The ones that were fake, boxed up and sent to decorating stores to be reused. Jordan, she had found the roses that Tom and Daisy had brought to get into the party, twirling one between her thin fingers. Sitting down on the floor next to her, she looked at me with concern in her eyes.

"What should we do about this, Nick?"

"Sell them. They left them here and we don't need them, and it's obvious that they don't want them back."

"No Nick, not the roses! I mean Daisy and Tom. What are we going to do about them? I feel like we just entered a game of cat and mouse with them. Soon we'll be the mouse, they'll be the cat. And who knows when the tide will be flip around."

She got off of the ground rather quickly and walked to the porch that led to her backyard, and stared at the grass that poking through the ground, giving it a bright green field before us. Joining her, my hands brushed her knuckles and she leaned up against me.

"I just can't really stand them anymore. The Buchanan's. Have you read the paper? There's a new title about them on the paper, and front page too. Plus, page three of the newspaper is all about them!"

She flung herself away from me, and retrieved the paper for me to see. Glancing at it, the title was in bold, and it made them sound as though nothing bad had ever happened to either of them since I've returned to New York City. **BUCHANAN'S, GOLDEN AGAIN AND STAYING GOLD**. I was in shock at the title, and took the papers from her hands. Flipping to page three, I read the entire page.

The Buchanan's, they had told lies to the entire media.

They stated that they were forced to do these affairs to keep their personal life safe, along with their little daughter, Pammy. They had wished to never allow this go too far, but they had to go further to keep their daughter safe.

Tom, he had been furious by the "blackmail" that he knew that complying would be the only way to get him out of the whole situation. Daisy, forced to take the blame of everything that was being done to her and Tom.

New York City, begging at the feet of the Buchanan's for all the lies and deceit that was happening. They wanted their forgiveness, and old friends were once more friends with them now.

The news of this, put me into a fit of rage.

The newspaper, I tore the entire page out and shredded it into pieces, allowing the wind to carry them away. My read the page over again, till I finally decided to rip it out and shred it like I did with the front page. The Buchanan's were true liars, and at most bribers too. It left a sour feeling inside of my mouth. Jordan, she merely watched me fume for the next few minutes, till I was calm enough to be talked to.

"Page six, it talks about our party."

My fingers fumbled through the rest of the paper to page six, and we covered the entire page. Our party had been called the "main event of the year", said to be "a spectacular event to all the rising stars" and "the night of New York City that out glowed all the stars", many more were listed within a single paragraph but I didn't want to read them all.

The people who took photos of the party and others that wrote down the events, leaving out the drinking, saying it was the blockbuster of the age. Even Marlene Moon, said that she was highly pleased by how everything flowed from a roaring river rapid, transforming into a waterfall with a deep pool just below it.

Reading the next few paragraphs, all that it talked about was the party till I hit one about myself and Jordan. The host and the hostess, as we were called, a forthcoming couple with a bright future set out in front of them as they walk across the limelight. They questioned about me as to how I was going to live my days, until they came across my boss Walter Chase and how that I was a hard worker, not even caring about the money that I inherited a while back. Even Jordan spoke of me, saying how I was not one to take a quick glance and not look back at.

They wrote down that she said, "You better take another look back at him, because he's not becoming a Tom Buchanan. There's already one Tom Buchanan, we don't need another… and I must say, Nick, is more of a man than Tom Buchanan ever will be. He has more values, morals, and everything else in between that Tom Buchanan doesn't associate himself with."

I laughed a small bit, and looked up at Jordan.

"You have a way with words Jordan, and they seem to surprise me now."

"Well, your words are more surprising than mine will ever be. You're the author here."

She waved her hand lightly at me, and looked towards the view that was beyond the porch. My eyes glanced in the same direction, wondering what was out there, beyond our small world that had caught her interest. Was she truly bothered by the Buchanan's?

Or was this something else, deep down inside of her mind that I had never even though or asked about? And if that was so, then why has she not mentioned it to me the slightest, but merely gave me signs that there was something there?

"Jordan, is there anything that you wish to talk to me about?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing Nick, just my thoughts wandering around in my head. So, what should the theme of the next party be? Should we hold it here again, or do you want to hold it at someplace else?"

She was holding back something, but I didn't want to be push her into the details. She'll tell me when she's ready to talk about it, so I decided to follow her conversation of the next party.

"Let's hold it a restaurant, and the party after that, we'll hold it back here. Change up the atmosphere a bit. Heck, the forth party, we can hold it at a park or something."

"I like that idea, Nick, so what's the theme of this upcoming one? What should people bring?"

"Send out invitations to a restaurant in the city that can handle over a hundred people. There will be no, theme for this one. And, let's hold it the first Saturday of April, the 7th."

"So, April 7th of nineteen-twenty-three, will be the day of Nick Carraway's second party. I'll see what I can do to see if a restaurant will allow us to hold a grand party there, you work on the invitations."

Nodding my head, I went off to find some paper and pens to begin writing.

By April 2nd, the Buchanan's had thrown their own style of a fancy party, and I wasn't the bit interested in it. I let Jordan go to the party without, for I did not feel like I should go to the Buchanan's house just yet. I didn't feel ready to go there, yet.


	12. Chapter 12

[Author Note: The story has also been posted on Watt pad, underneath my username Lukara_Spock. So be sure to look it up and vote for me!]

By the time I was ready to turn in for the night, Jordan was at my door.

The mascara was flowing down her rosy cheeks, in which she buried into my black shirt. The tears of makeup that will never show and no one will ever know.

Her feet, they didn't move a single inch from where the mat outside my door, so I merely had to carry her inside. In my arms, I could feel her barely shaking, like something had happened and it finally broke her cool demeanor. Settling her down on the couch, I ran my fingers through her hair and I could see the remains of glitter fall out onto my fingers.

'I'll go and make some tea, Jordan."

Walking into the kitchen, I turned the heat on for the stove and waited for the teapot to whistle. Looking at Jordan from the kitchen, I saw her body fall down onto the couch and I turned off the stove.

Walking over to her, I knelt down in front of her and brushed away the remaining tears from her face. Slowly, I sat her up and held her hands firmly in mine. There on her lips, I could see a small curl form until when our eyes met, it disappeared.

"Nickie… I-I… god, there is just so much wrong in our lives."

"There is much wrong, isn't there? But who to say that we're the only ones?"

She had finally taken notice of a point, a point in which I had hit so long ago, when we had gone out to town with Gatsby and the Buchanan's. I remember peeking in on both Tom and Daisy, sitting there at the dining table and eating chicken.

Daisy had broken her promise that she would leave Tom for him. For Gatsby.

Tom still wasn't taking care of Daisy. She was still suffering.

Gatsby had ended up dead not long after that, and then George Wilson died only moments later.

I had given Gatsby a call that day, and I heard the gunshot on the phone, and I became filled with fear at that moment during work. Walter Chase had come by to check up on me, and when I told heard there had been a gunshot, he sent me home so when I came back to work the next day. He gave me time so I could get myself composed.

No one had mourned for Gatsby when he died. Except for me, his father and old Owl Eyes.

All of the people who attended his lavish parties, never came to his funeral.

"Nick, I'm sorry about not attending his funeral… I should have attended, after all he's done for me and what I've done for him in return. It could have been the least I could have done… but I decided to run off and... and do other things."

She looked as though she was drowning.

Drowning upon her own words, words in which she was too afraid to speak of and let out of her. Words that she would never set free from their prison.

"Jordan, what's the matter? Did something happen to you at the party? Did someone say something?"

"Not at the party… Do you remember what happened after I brought you back to New York City… that night here in the apartment, do you remember it?"

That night flooded into my head, and I merely gave her a simple nod. It was different from the time that I woke up in her bedroom, course it started out with simple kisses, and ordering some drinks… but that night was born into my memory.

We didn't drink to our hearts content like other people would have, we'd kept our senses clear and made sure our minds weren't clouded. We merely became drunk in our pleasure for each other.

Not long after that, she had gone down to Santa Barbara.

Why she was bringing this up, I didn't exactly know, but I wanted to know.

"Yes, Jordan, I recall that night."

My fingers gently brush over her knuckles.

"When I was down in Santa Barbara, Daisy took notice that I wasn't drinking the slightest… I was refusing alcohol left and right, and she confronted me of it. I told her, I didn't care about the drinks. She said I was denying the truth. I asked her what truth, she told me it was nothing."

She ran her fingers through her hair, and I sat down on the couch and lay her down on top of me. she sniffled a small bit and took in a deep breath.

"I went into a rage at her. We were both alone in a room and shouting at each other like a bunch of banshee's. She was drunk beyond the point to where no one knew exactly what she was saying. I left the party and I broke down… I couldn't breath or anything as I was experiencing pain beyond what I've always known… one of my cousins… he found me and got me to a doctor."

Her mouth firmly shut on itself and she started to cry all over again. Running my hands up and down her back, I did my best to calm her as my mind pieced together what she was saying to me.

Bringing up the night that we spent together, not drinking any wine at all, the pain that she went through… it all clicked in my head.

Jordan had been pregnant and miscarried the child.

Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her ever closer to me and buried my face into her hair. I could feel my own tears sliding down my face, the sobs raking against my chest as we both cried. The thought of losing a child… the thoughts flooded my mind of what the child could have been if it were to live.


	13. Chapter 13

At work, my head was clouded by the thought of Jordan losing our child, but whenever I answered my phone, I shoved those thoughts back and focused on my work. My boss, he seemed to have noticed it, but took no time to come over and talk to me of it. I believed he wasn't truly concern over me.

Half an hour after one, I clocked out of work and headed directly home. Standing outside my apartment door was Meyer Wolfsheim.

He gave me his famous grin and a head nod as I opened the door and let us both in.

"So, what is this all about that you made me reschedule my entire day?"

"The Buchanan's, Meyer. They crossed a line now, one that no one should ever cross."

He nodded his head again as I got the coffee pot going and pulled out small treats from my fridge. I could hear him pop his finger knuckles, and he walked around my apartment for a moment or two before sitting down on the couch.

Handing him a cup of coffee, I sat silently down on the couch pondering over how to tell Meyer what happened exactly.

"Jordan was pregnant when she went off to Santa Barbara."

"That is fantastic, Nick, give her my best wishes. But how do the Buchanan's mix in with this?"

"She lost the child in Santa Barbara, Meyer. Daisy found out on her that she was pregnant, and made Jordan go into a rage. We both know Jordan's anger."

"Yes, yes we do. If she were holding a gun, no one would be able to stop her from pulling the trigger. So, what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to have the Buchanan's to feel what I feel. Jordan is very close to Pammy, and she did tell me a long while back, she and Daisy had signed a contract to where Jordan could have custody over Pammy if Daisy and Tom lost Pammy."

I remember that conversation, it was three nights before the party that Tom and Daisy were holding. She explained to me that both she and Daisy had created it in case something happened to both Daisy and Tom. Jordan was smart enough to add in if Daisy wanted to ever get rid of it, both must sign documents to have it destroyed. Course, Jordan wasn't going to ever let that happen.

"Meyer, do you think you can help us?"

"You want to get back at the Buchanan's by having them lose their daughter to Jordan? Mr. Buchanan, you are thinking a bit like Gatsby here."

Standing up, I walked over the large windows and stared out them.

"I don't want any violence involved, gather evidence and send it to either the cops or a judge. Hand it all over to the Commissioner if you must, without a single drop of blood spilt. We can't have it turn into a crime."

Turning my head at him, I could see the gears moving in his head and he smiled at me.

"I know perfect way to get all the evidence. They're holding another party in two days, I'll send my men in with camera's and paper to get the information that you need. You can count on it."

Grinning, he stood up as I walked over to him and he gave me a firm hand shake. Pulling him to a hug, I gave him a few pats on the back and he walked out of my apartment. Letting out a deep sigh, I walked back to the windows and merely stared at the blue sky that was overhead.

The Buchanan's had brought upon themselves this war and now they were going to get it.


End file.
